3 comments/ 9311 views/ 0 favorites Hero Be Damned Ch. 02 By: BrisbaneBorn Chapter 2: No good deed goes unpunished... ------------------- "Control well its slippin' right through my hand, these days turned out nothin' like I had planned..." –PowderFinger, These Days. ------------------- "You look lost boy." My feet shifted in their spot. I didn't look up at the old voice speaking to me. "You have to have a destination, or somewhere to be, to be lost. I haven't got either." "Fair point son. But you don't look good. I've seen dogs diggin' in the trash that looked better'n you my boy." I looked up slowly at the man, my eyes heavy, the sleep of the peaceful had eluded me for six months now, my eyes had shown the signs of it after two days, now, they looked as blackish purple as a plums skin. I raised one corner of my mouth in a half smile, something I hadn't done in a long time either. Something about being compared to a trash foraging dog just did it for me. "I haven't been good in a long time, I really don't want to be either. When I'm good, it means I've stopped caring." The man appraised me, taking in my sight, I was dishevelled, dirty, I hadn't washed in three days, why bother, I mean I was on the road right? My cargo pants had dirt up to the thighs, my jacket smelled to high heaven. I'd clean up when I'd stopped travelling. Plus, smelling like this at times meant people didn't sit next to me on busses and trains. God knows that lady on the Greyhound the other week irritated me, questions, showing me pictures of her body, coming onto me... I hadn't meant to be rude to her, but I just couldn't do it. I couldn't handle it any more. When I saw the ring on her finger, the words from her lips surreptitiously inviting me to get off at the next stop with her, the look in her eye that said 'Sure Im taken, but I'm willing to forget that for one night...', I just couldn't handle it. I wonder what they'll do when they see I crushed the armrest in my hand... benefits and drawbacks of being me I suppose. "Son, you know, whatevers up, whatevers wrong, I'm always open to help people. You got somewhere to go?" The main looked deep into my eyes, his brilliant blue eyes meeting mine. My brow furrowed. My lip trembled a little, a quiver. Probably the first time I responded to someone without a sneer, a snide remark. "No, no sir." My eyes watered a little. "I run a boarding house near here son, I got three bedrooms spare at the moment, its not busy season. You come and stay there a little bit. Not free. I've got stuff that needs doin. Shingles on the house, pipes need replacing, cement slab out the back needs laying. Hope you're good with your hands. Oh and around forty pine trees that need cutting down so we can rip out the stumps." Hard work never bothered me. I had no destination as per se, some time in the country doing some work, in the fresh air, might help clear my head I thought. Why not. "Sure. Thank you." I said, nodding in his direction. "Son, I aint offerin you a bed for the night so you can walk off in the mornin'. I live five kilometres from here along that road. Number 24 Dewbridge Road to be precise. You walk that distance, you come to my place, you cut some wood for the fireplace before bedtime, and you've got a place to stay." A little bizarre I figured, but I'd covered a few hundred kilometres walking in the last week, well, running I suppose, sometimes I'd meander, wander slowly, other times Id burst into a stride. Well, stride is probably the wrong word to use. Shade, me, we don't 'run', we sort of glide. Our foot hits the ground every twenty or so meters, feels like Im taking a normal stride, the distance goes by so fast though... around a kilometre every thirty seconds I can cover. As you can understand, I was at his house before he was. I sat near a grouping of trees in the black night, watching his house. I sat there a good hour. Just waiting, relaxing. I saw the old man wandering around, making something in the kitchen. Pottering around, cooking. I saw him look out the window, not at me, he went back to his cooking. Over near the back door to the house, a rather grand Victorian era two story house, kinda like that one in Forrest Gump actually, around four giant logs were laying down next to a stump with an axe. This would be interesting... Standing over one of the logs, legs on each side, I turned my hand on its side, like a karate chop, and brought it down on the top of the log, holding it in place with my calfs. The log vibrated, a lot. I looked, a split had formed in the top. I let go. The log opened up, not neatly, it'd split roughly down the middle with one hit. A voice came from behind me. "You know son. I asked you to cut the wood. Had I asked you to beat the wood, that'd sound just odd... you can pick up that axe now and do the job properly. I spun around, shocked I had been so stupid as to let someone see me. "Relax son. Im seventy years old. Stuff stopped surprising me years ago. Plus, I saw you over near the trees when I first pulled in. It's my ears that are goin after all, not my eyes..." I laughed a little, first time in a long time. It felt relaxing. Being able to be myself. "Bad news and good news though boy. Good news is, pullin' out those stumps is obviously gonna be easier now. Bad news? You're still cutting those logs with an axe. Get to it, then come in. Cut around ten mid size blocks and ten small ones." "Yessir." I nodded towards the man, "I'll be done soon. You mind if I have a shower first before dinner?" "You know son, if you're gonna stay here, you better start calling me by my name. Sir makes me sound like an old man. I'm only seventy, got a lot of time left yet. And yeah, have a shower, Im sure if you turned up to dinner smellin' like you do, Diana would have a fit!" "Your wifes here???" I panicked a little, had she seen too? "Dianas dead, but Im damn certain if you come to the table smellin' and not sayin' grace, we say grace here, thank our good lord for everything we have regularly, I'm sure she'd come back just to bug the ever livin' shit out of me." Looking into his smile, it warmed me, being able to be with someone with no evil in him, being around someone with nothing but good intentions, not having to worry about him finding out who I was, well, I'd blown that myself. "Son, I'm figurin' you're Shade. And, I'm figurin' you disappeared from Castor for a reason. You're fast, you're stronger than anythin' I've ever seen. And as far as I know there's no other Superheroes out there? I figure you'll tell me when you want to, if you want to, why you're here and not there. I won't push. But just know, I'm not tellin' anyone who you are. Hell, I don't want no paparassholes around here!" he laughed to himself, clearly finding it funnier than I did, as he guffawed to himself, whilst slowly walking back inside. I had to hand it to him. I liked this man. Some sort of weight lifted off of me, just a tiny bit, but I felt it lifting all the same, it felt good. I'd tell him soon, god knows I had to tell him about... -------------------------- -------------------------- I looked out my window at the cityscape, the lights glared in the dark, people going about their nightly business, thinking I was out there looking over them. Twelve years I'd been doing it, twelve years and now this... I'd just arrived home from the Morgue, the answering machine blinked, the memory full with messages from everyone who knew Veronica, from the limited amount of people who knew me. "I just heard..." "I'm so sorry!" "Do you need anything?" "....always here if you need us!" "What are you going to do???" Then his voice came on. The deep, over melodramatic tones of Kavork. "Hellooooooooooooo 'Shade'... Guess what! I was at your house recently, decided to drop in for a coffee, but you weren't there! Your girl was though, and your son. You sinful sinful man, living in sin like that, god would not be pleased! Not married and having a bastard child, things like that can lead you to hell you know hahaha... so I fixed the situation. I gutted them. I cut your son, slit him from ear to fucking ear. Well no, I didn't do that, but I probably should have! Oh, and he squealed, it was hilarious, squealed like a pig as they say. I love clichés, don't you? They're so... cliché! I took my time too by the way, no slow death that's for sure. And your wife? Great tits on her. Great tits! They looked better on me though. You fucked with me one too many times 'Shade'. Aaaaand now that I think about it, you're wife fucked with me a few times too... not that she wanted to. But hey, I guess she'd do anything for her little boy! And she did! Oh boy did she... although she wasn't keen on the old back door, so I worked her up a little... but, I guess a hunting knifes not a very appreciated sex toy... Each to their own, whatever floats your boat as they say. Now down to business... I guess we've both got nothing to lose... you destroyed my business, you took it all from me 'Shade', so I took your family, everything you had. You know how fucking HARD it was to find out who you were? Check your helmet sometime, there's a little receiver in there, just under the back, its like a pin, its dug into the material lining, surprised you honestly didn't find it. Only transmits for like two hundred meters though, so I had to be in range before it'd start transmitting. Took me WEEKS to scour the city, and then what do you know, you're out one day dropping off a fucking DVD at the store and I hear it go off, I chased the signal, and voila!!! It leads to your car!!! You can guess the rest from there! I suppose you could call that my big moment of plot explanation, that I should've done that when we finally met up again, but hey, I'm a sucker for the dramatic. Besides, with all the condolences you're likely to get it'd be nice to hear a message that wasn't sappy eh?... You know, we're both without anything now 'Shade'. Find me 'Shade'. Find me I fucking dare you. It won't be hard, it's not like you should say, start at Calebs house? But, I'll be ready 'Shade', or should I say John Rollins. I'll be ready for you. Two men enter! One man leaves! By god Thunderdome was terrible wasn't it John? I noticed it in your video collection... you really have terrible taste, thank god your boy won't inherit it... wait, he'll never inherit anything! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! *click*" I swiped the answering machine off the table, it flew across the room, embedding itself in the wall, plastic exploded everywhere, I screamed, my lungs burning, my breath running out as I sobbed, gasping for air. My vision blurred, my fists buried themselves in the walls, dozens upon dozens of holes lining the walls now, I brought them down on the kitchen counter, splintering it into oblivion. I'm going to find him... I knew I would. I'm going to kill him. There's no doubt in those words. "I'm coming Kavork. Im going to kill you you son of a bitch..." ------------------------------ ------------------------------ I looked at the logs as the axe was swinging down repeatedly on them, it felt good to be doing normal manual labor, not using my real strength. I looked at him through the window, the man I'd eventually come to call my saviour. I'd tell him. I'd tell him soon what I'd done. But not now. I had to know I could truly trust him. I'd been burned before by someone, and I just needed to know... Hero Be Damned Ch. 03 The story was rejected the first time I put it through, possibly because I put some stuff in there that was just too gross. So I've taken that out. It's all the better for it to be honest. I also had a lot of stuff going on hence why I haven't written anything. But, I've taken it back up, so here I am, submitting my latest chapter in this storyline. Two more chapters to go, maybe three, then this story will be finished. Thanks for your patience people... enjoy! =========================== Through this whole thing, this whole charade of who I am, who I want to be, who I want to hide from being. Something was lost. Something was left unfinished in me. Not something out there in the physical world, something inside me that remains unchecked, unattended. I didn't take much time to think about it, god knows I couldn't bring myself to. And yet it was the most important thing of all. It might sound unusual. I carry my family with me. Two metal containers, etched with their names, in my backpack. Sealed shut, airtight as such, their ashes inside. They were cremated, I couldn't bring myself to scatter them in the city anywhere, and after a while, I couldn't bring myself to scatter them anywhere. I think it seems more appropriate to find somewhere peaceful, when I'm in a position mentally, emotionally and physically ready to do so, then, when I'm finally ready, it will be done... And now here I sat, Roger was looking at me, my eyes sore with tears, red and puffy, my ears warm, my nose running, my lips pulled back, straining at my teeth, trying to hold back the whimpers and cries. My hands came up, cupping my mouth and nose, my fingertips stopping short at my eyes. I tried to regain composure to talk to him. "How old were they..." "He was three. She was twenty nine." I strained the words out, almost between my teeth, they were painful to speak. "Young. Too young to die. I can't say any words that will magically fix things. That never happens. It's not like a tv show where someone dies one week then the next shit moves on. Things will be fucked up for ages. And they don't get 'better'. They get 'different', they get 'tolerable' I suppose would be a better word to use." Roger finished speaking, looking at me. He opened his mouth again, his eyes fallen, sympathy behind every word, "It sounds harsh I know, and it sounds like a bastard of a thing to say, but it's the truth. You'll never forget them, you'll never lose them from your heart, and one day, you'll be with them again. But you damn well make sure you join them under your terms, not under someone else's." I looked at Roger, those words weren't expected. I guess I thought that he would come out with something different. Relief I suppose, washed over me, knowing he was a straight shooter when it came to talking helped a lot. "I was Shade. I used to look after Castor City until I went into forced retirement. Actually that's not true. With what I intend to do, I can't justify calling myself a hero." Roger looked at me nodding slightly. "You're the guy whose family got killed by Kavork aren't you..." I nodded, looking at him, I opened my mouth to speak but nothing would come forth, nothing intelligible, all that came out was a low moan of sorrow, one that captured my feelings, more than anything could. My head fell, my shoulders followed, my forehead hitting my hands on the table, cupping my face. Tears sprang from my eyes, my nose ran. "I miss them." I cried openly. "God I miss them and I need them and I'm never going to see them again and it's all my goddamn fault!!" =============================================== I stood in the hallway looking at Calebs door. The door seemed like the final step between sanity and insanity. A six foot high symbol of what's left in my life, go through and be changed, stay here and remain as I am, possibly capture what left of my life and use it as best I can. If I go through, nothing's going to protect Kavork from me if he's in there. Nothing. My soul is nearly broken, I'll make his body match that. I'll do much worse. God help the son of a bitch. So I knocked. Something smashed in the kitchen, a cup or plate or something, it sounded like it was thrown. I heard another, then a giant crash of multiple objects. Then, a strange gurgling sound. Something smelt, something wasn't right. And where the hell was that smell coming from??? This was no time to be cautious. If I'd been inside, I would've screamed as the door blew off its hinges and flew across the room. Benefits of extreme leg strength I suppose. But that bastard flew, it lodged itself partly through the window on the other side and partly in the wall itself as it splintered. I ran in, looking around. The blood slick on the floor started in the loungeroom. It went in a two foot smear towards the tiled kitched where it pooled over the floor. The thick stench of shit and blood enveloped the room. I walked slowly to the kitchen, fists at the ready, eyes wider than the largest saucers you'd ever find. And that's where I found Caleb. Sitting on the ground, naked, his stomach sliced open, from his balls to his chest, skin flaps pulled back across his chest, his ribs showing under the fatty meat. His intestines pulled out and resting partially on his lap, the pinky purpleish red of them standing out starkly on his bare white legs. also wrapped around his neck and hands. My breathing turned to hyperventilation. I grabbed a plastic bag from the counter, turning away from the sight, breathing into it, returning to normal. My head racing with images, not willing to even allow myself to register it. I turned to him again, my breathing having slowed down immensely. My eyes arched as I tried to control my emotions. I bit my tongue so hard it bled, the copper rich taste of the ichor spreading in my mouth. I squinted my eyes so hard to stop from crying I swear I must've bruised the eyelids. I hit the counter top repeatedly, buckling it under my fist as it smashed, splintering it into bits. Screaming, my voice carrying through the streets down below. My cries of anger shredding the courage of the gods above. Falling to my knees I looked at him, my head tilted, my mouth open, tears pouring from my eyes. Then I noticed he was holding a bag. Maybe, holding a bag, might be the wrong word. It was taped to his hand. I opened it, tearing the plastic apart like it were paper, pulling out a dvd. "Play my fucker" was written on it. I walked away from the corpse of my best friend, I didn't touch it, I don't want the police to have to worry about that much, there's nothing I can do for him now. The dvd slid into the player and Kavorks face filled the screen. "So, now you ask why I killed Caleb? I'm a sick fuck. I mean in my own mind it's justified. That bastard, you handed me to him so many times. Had me arrested. When I found out he was your source , well, I just had to make sure I took my sweet time with him. John, do you know what I did? I cut a hole, about six inches deep in his belly. Then, I shoved a piece of aluminium in there, bent it like a hook. And I pulled those insides outside! Originally I was going to let him survive. Originally. But alas, it wasn't meant to be. It turned out too hard, so I opened him up, gutted him like a whiting on a fishing trip. And holy shit did he scream. Didn't help him much though, taped a towel to his mouth. That muffled it. Pulling those intestines out though, that's not easy work man, that's some hard shit! Well, that's what came out when I pulled too hard with the hook hahaha!! So, we ended up seeing what old Caleb was made of didn't we. Just like your wife and kid John. So who's next? Hell I don't know. Did you really think I was going to give myself up to you straight away??? Fuck no. You ruined my life John. And I'm going to ruin you... We'll meet again soon John, don't you worry about that. We'll meet again soon, and when we do, then you'll get to do something, but until then, I wonder who's next? This is gonna be interesting. Or have I done something already? We'll see soon I guess!!" ============================================== Raising my head from the table I looked at Roger, l pursed my lips, controlling my tears finally. "He killed your wife, child and friend. Did he kill anyone else?" Roger looked at me quizzically. "No. Nearly but no. He tried though. God knows he tried. But that wasn't for a long time after." "This Kavork, I haven't heard of him before. What's he look like?" Roger enquired, I guess this was something that'd help him envisage what the guy looked like. "You ever seen Prisonbreak?" "Yeah, good show. Why?" "The guy in the second season, the demented guy who jumps off a tower. He's got these crazy eyes." "Yeah I know the guy, he was in my Name is Earl as well." "Yeah him, think long blonde dyed hair, crazy eyes and a black goatee. Always, always wearing a brown leather jacket and workers overalls kinda like the sort you'd see in a garage. Oh, and his lips are weird." "How are they weird? What's wrong with his lips, are we talking weird like that Joker guy in that Batman movie... you know I didn't like that one much? Much preferred the old ones from the 60s myself... Cesar Romero... much better... sorry anyhow... sorry..." "Yeah, anyhow... He has none. They were cut off when he was younger. He grew up in Croatia, according to him, and claims they were cut off for raping a girl or something. It looks weird. His face, you can just see sort of, skin, then teeth. He carries around a water bottle all the time with him, always wetting his mouth. Dribbles like a motherfucker too... sorry pardon the french." "Jesus Christ," Roger muttered "That's awful." " He dropped out of communication after Calebs place. I showed the police commissioner the tape. I revealed who I was. It didn't go public, it stopped there. Covered up as it were. The cops appreciated what I had done for them, an honour amongst friends kind of thing. So that never got out, who I was, not that I gave a shit. So approximately only four people know now. I didn't go back to my place for around three months. I stayed in hotels, motels, everywhere. I tried to patrol a few times, but I couldn't. My mind was in a bad place. God knows what would've happened if I caught someone doing something wrong. You know that the cartoons show us fighting crime all the time? It's not like that. Maybe once a week, or a fortnight, you'll stop an assault, once every three to four weeks a major crime. Hell, sometimes it's months. It seemed pointless after a while. So I stopped. I kept looking for Kavork though. I eventually found out he'd left the country and was in parts unknown. Dunno. Then out of the blue one day, he stole a baby from the hospital. A new born. He was back and he took a fucking baby hostage. Because he wanted to see me. A fucking baby and took him to the abattoir." ***** (To be continued... and this time without a 2 year wait I swear to god :)